The Pale Exile

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2026-08-22 00:30:03 -

The Pale Exile

The frost on the glass of my study window is not mere ice, but a lattice of needles that seem to point inward, toward the heart of the room where the mirror hangs, a slab of polished obsidian that has served as the silent witness to my forty years of service and my ten years of fatherhood. I am Sir Aldric of the Order, a knight who has bled for the faith in the muddy fields of the Rhine, yet I...

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